


Merlin, It's Cold Outside

by Wintumn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, based on a christmas song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintumn/pseuds/Wintumn
Summary: “Merlin,” Arthur calls from the window. “It’s cold outside.”Merlin doesn’t look up from the fire, “Is this you rubbing in the fact that you have a roaring fire and toasty bedchamber or do you actually think I haven’t noticed?”
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 118





	Merlin, It's Cold Outside

“Merlin,” Arthur calls from the window. “It’s cold outside.”

Merlin doesn’t look up from the fire, “Is this you rubbing in the fact that you have a roaring fire and toasty bedchamber or do you actually think I haven’t noticed?” He carefully sets another log against the flames. Not even a second later, the log crushes the fire and embers fly at him while he quickly flails to pat them to death.

Arthur rolls his eyes at the sight, “No, that’s not what I meant. And besides, I remember _you’re_ the one who got all giddy when it started to snow.”

“Because it felt so magi-” Merlin stopped himself “-beautiful,” he fixed quickly. “But snow is definitely best enjoyed next to a fire.” 

Arthur hummed in agreement, gazing at the snow piling and listening to the crackles of the roaring fire. When it becomes too dark outside to see the snow anymore, he turns to climb into bed, but catches Merlin still and sitting, hugging his knees into his chest, in front of the fire. Quietly, he creeps up beside him, but Merlin was too deep in thought to notice. “What’s on your mind?” he asks softly when he settles next to the man.

Merlin breaks his gaze at the fire to glance at Arthur for a moment. “My mum,” he mumbles, “I hope she’s not too cold.” He brings his hands to rub his arms and lets his knees fall to the stone ground.

Arthur thinks back to Hunith in her small hut probably huddling up to the small fireplace to savor as much warmth as possible. He wonders if Merlin feels he needs to be there for her. Perhaps as a voice in the silence, a presence in the loneliness. But Arthur selfishly pushes away the images; if Merlin’s there being a good son, he wouldn’t be here being a horrible manservant. So Arthur needs him more.

When the fire weakens to a medium flame, Arthur touches Merlin’s shoulder and clears his throat. “It’s getting late,” he says.

Merlin hums but doesn’t move for a moment. When he does, he gets to his knees and pulls two logs from the pile, setting it on the fire, this time, without making the flames collapse. Arthur watches as Merlin gets up, and he quickly stands when Merlin collects their dinner plates. “Good night, Arthur.”

“Wait-” Arthur quickly makes way to him and tugs at the end of his thin leather jacket. “That’s not what I meant, you idiot. Do you really think I’m gonna make you go outside in the snow?”

“It’s not letting up for a while, Arthur. If I don’t go now, it’s just going to get colder.”

“You could just stay here,” he blurts.

Merlin cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?” He lifts the plates balanced in his right hand. “I also have to bring down your dinner plates to the kitchen so I might as well go back to my room.”

“Just leave the dishes, you can take them tomorrow.” Arthur tries to take the plates from him, but Merlin swoops his arm away.

“It’s been really nice, Arthur, but I can’t stay.” When Arthur doesn’t say anything, Merlin adds, “Where would I sleep?”

“We can think of something, I have enough sheets and pillows for two and a spare set if that’s not enough.” And his bed is large enough for two, but Arthur doesn’t say out loud.

“Really, Arthur,” Merlin tries to walk past him, “Thanks for the offer - and dinner - but I’ve got to go.” 

Arthur catches his hand when he brushes past. “Gods! Merlin!” He brings Merlin’s empty hand up. “How are your hands so cold when you’ve been tending to a roaring fire all evening?” His fingers were pale white and hard, as if all the blood froze.

Merlin twists his hand out of Arthur’s hold. “I’m not a heated slab of meat like you.”

Arthur frowns. “Even _normal_ people don’t get this cold, Merlin.” Arthur supposes though, if Merlin was normal, he’d be begging to stay. “If you go outside like this,” Arthur gestures to Merlin’s hands, “I’ll find an ice sculpture of you tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be fine, really,” Merlin says shrugging. “Besides, I have to go help Gaius set up his own 'roaring fire'.”

“Gaius can set his own fire,” probably, Arthur quietly adds. “Well, you should at least stay and warm up completely before you go. I don’t see why you’re in such a hurry.” Arthur pointedly crosses his arms.

Merlin’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes drop. “He’s probably worried that I’ve frozen if I don’t come back soon.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Come on, look there’s a roaring fire-” he cocks his head “-It won’t take long for you to warm up, I promise.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t know, Arthur… I should go now, before it gets too late.”

“Just-” Arthur sighs, “Just have a cup of honey mead to warm your stomach before you go, then. ” And before Merlin could protest, “That’s an order, Merlin.”

Merlin sighs, setting down the plates. “Fine… But only half a cup. It won’t be good if I’m staggering on my way back.” Arthur beams a smile brighter than the fire as Merlin pours them both a cup. He takes a cup when Merlin returns to the fireside and they both bathe in the warmth of the flames, sitting close enough to feel the other, but not enough to touch. 

“I can’t stay though,” Merlin whispers after a moment, “the servants like to… gossip.”

“Oh come on Merlin, don’t be such a girl,” Arthur elbows his arm playfully. “It’s cold outside. That’s all, what could they possibly gossip about?”

Merlin scoffs. “You have no idea,” Merlin almost slurs. And Arthur doesn’t want to know either, at least not yet.

When Merlin finishes, turning the entire cup upside down over his mouth, he tips his head back and leans against Arthur’s bed. “ _What_ was in that?” He asks from under the cup, and drops it to his side. His face is flush red, from mead or heat, Arthur doesn’t know. 

“It’s just mead… _oh._ ” Arthur brings a hand to his face. “It’s not watered. Well, I suppose you also can’t hold your drink well.” Merlin doesn’t move, only breathes softly. “Merlin, you might as well stay,” Arthur says softly. “You can hardly walk straight like this, and there’s no one to escort you back.”

“It’s alright,” he mumbles, “Just have to let it go through my systems.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin, you can’t just magically become sober. I doubt there’s a spell for that.”

Merlin mutters back something incoherent; he’s not even trying to talk, really.

Arthur sighs. “Come on, move. I’ll get your jacket.” He tugs the neck of the coat and struggles to slide it off Merlin’s uncooperative arms. “You’ve got to be a little more helpful here, Merlin.”

But he’s just mumbling, “No, no, no, sire,” and slumping against the bed. Arthur moves in closer and man-handles Merlin out of his sleeves. But Arthur’s more or less drunk, and Merlin is now even more unhelpful and wiggling. “Dammit Merlin, I’m just taking off your coat.” When Arthur successfully strips the thin cloth off, Merlin is just curling on the ground. Arthur tugs/drags him closer to the fire.

“At least I tried,” he mutters faintly against the stone. 

Arthur grins victoriously, “What’s the sense in disobeying me at this point?” Then, because Merlin’s head looks uncomfortable on the ground, Arthur lifts him onto his lap.

After a long moment, Arthur thinks Merlin has gone to sleep and is dozing off himself. Merlin abruptly shoots up completely awake.

“Alright, that’s been nice,” Merlin says as if he were never drunk, “I’ve really got to go now.”

Arthur gaps at him. “Merlin, if it was cold a while ago, it’s definitely colder now.” But it isn’t stopping him, who is already rising from the comfort and gathering the empty cups.

“It wouldn’t have been if you had just let me go then. And now I must suffer.”

Arthur shakes his head, but ends up losing balance. “I am not letting you go back. Not in _that_ ,” he points at the wall next to the window. “So I order you to stay for the night.”

Merlin flings his head around and shoots a piercing gaze into Arthur’s eyes. “The answer is no.” After a moment, his gaze softens. “It’s been really nice here, Arthur. Thanks for the dinner, fire, and drink. All nice and warm... but now I’m heading back,” he finishes quickly. He once again struts to the doors of the cold outside, while Arthur almost trips over himself to block the way.

“If you realize that, you should also look outside.” Arthur points to the window. “It’s a bloody _blizzard_ out there.”

It was pitch black outside so he couldn’t see anything, but Merlin looks over anyway and sighs. “If I don’t leave, Gwen’s going to be suspicious.” Arthur, who would have reacted to Gwen’s name being mentioned, becomes distracted.

“Your lips are chapped, you ought to get something for that.” Arthur instinctively licks his own lips.

“I’ll tell Gaius about it, when I get back,” he assures. “Also, Gwaine’s going to be waiting at my door with a lot of questions tomorrow morning, if I’m not back tonight.” 

Arthur leads Merlin by the hand back to the fireside, but Merlin’s feet are rooted at the door. “Merlin, what does _Gwaine_ have to care about this?”

“He likes to stick his nose in my business.” Merlin grimaces at the imaginary ridicule. “And even if he doesn’t find out, Morgana will definitely get a laugh out of this.” 

“I think she has better things to laugh at,” Arthur says, knowing full well that Merlin is right with that one.

Merlin slumps slightly. “Fine, I’ll finish up a couple more logs before I go.” He walks over and plops down in the warmth.

“Might as well stay,” Arthur grins stupidly and settles snugly next to him, “I’ve never seen such a blizzard before.”

...

 _Three_ logs later, Merlin breaks into a curt farewell: “Alright, Arthur. I’m being serious. I’ve got to get home.”

“You’re insane, Merlin,” he declared, rolling his eyes. “You’re going to freeze out there.”

“Lend me your cloak then,” he says simply, and lets himself through Arthur’s wardrobe.

“A _cloak_ is not going to protect you from that!” Arthur gestures again to the pitch black window, “It’s up to your knees out there!”

“Would’ve been up to my _ankles_ if I left earlier.” He pulls out the thickest, reddest cloak. “You’ve been great to me.” He puts his hand over Arthur’s in a way that makes Arthur’s heart skip a beat. “But you can’t be that blind, Arthur. People talk about us…” he adds emphasis, “a lot.” He looks into Arthur’s eyes, sad and pleading. Arthur is helpless against those deep blue puppy eyes, he knows it. _Dammit_. “If I stay, there’s bound to be talk between the servants tomorrow.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything, but he’s definitely not pouting. He is just frowning and doesn’t want to acknowledge his loss.

“At least there’ll be plenty implied,” Merlin mutters to himself. Arthur feels the resolve in his steps as he goes to the door for the last time..

“Don’t go, Merlin,” Arthur begins, chewing his lip. “You’ll catch pneumonia and die?” He wants to pinch himself.

Merlin chuckles. “You’re drunk, Arthur,” he says with his white fingers pressed on the door handle. “Good night.”

Merlin slips out, taking a bit of warm air with him, and quickly shuts the door. Defeated, Arthur sinks to the cool stones in front of the fire. He lays on his side, head propped on his hand, and watches as the flames slowly devour the logs. When the fire gets too small to offer any more heat, he gets up to crawl into his bed and hears a sound. He stops and looks around. The sound comes again; there was a knocking at the door. He trudges to the door, thankful that he has no motivation to punish the moron who is knocking at his door at this hour.

He lazily pulls the door with a yawn and instantly wakes up when a wave of cold air hits him in the face; his eyes peel open. “Merlin…?”

Merlin only rubs his arms over his leather jacket, shivering. Where the _hell_ is his cloak? His nose and cheeks are rosy. His hair and shoulders are slightly damp, and he breathes out a misty cloud between his chattering teeth. “Can I come in already? It’s cold outside.”

Arthur stares for another second and breaks out a shout laugh before pulling Merlin in and slamming the door shut.

* * *

Afterwards

Merlin wakes up to Arthur’s mumbles. He finds his head tucked under Arthur’s chin and Arthur’s arm draped over his shoulder, though they fell asleep back to back. His nose is cold from the crisp winter air; the once roaring fire has become a pile of glowing embers now. Merlin slowly peaks over Arthur’s shoulder to see the window and dark sky. Dawn is still far away, Merlin lays his head back down on the pillow - but it was actually Arthur’s arm. 

Arthur is still mumbling nonsense, which Merlin heard to be “Waves upon a tropical shore.”

“Arthur,” he whispers, “Arthur.” 

The other man stirs awake, “Hmm?” Not fully awake, Merlin supposes.

“What’s that?” But Arthur is slipping away, so Merlin shakes him lightly. “What’s ‘waves upon a tropical shore’?”

Arthur hums, “Forgot to say that bit.”

Merlin gives up and laughs. He wiggles back under the warm covers, but Arthur suddenly pulls his face up. He plants a light kiss on Merlin’s lips. “Forgot to do that too,” he smiles and dozes off again, mumbling, “They _are_ chapped.”

Merlin gaps at the sleeping man, and ends up fighting down a bubbling laughter. He burrows further into Arthur’s arms, enveloped in all of his warmth and smiling silly.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!


End file.
